Tyranny: The Wolf
by HIGH and MIGHTY COLOR
Summary: At thirteen years old, Ratonhnhake:ton has decided he can bear no more of watching innocents suffer under the cruel hand of a tyrant. However, he is trapped between his obedience to what his mother says is wise, which is to wait until he is older, and what he knows is right. (ToKW timeline)
1. The Wolf Cub

There was nothing more than the sensation of the wind blowing across his face, rustling the leaves in the trees. There was the occasional grunt and snort of a buck moving through the grass, expressing its displeasure with other males, and there were also the shrill shrieks of fox kits, playing outside their den. The forest was as quiet as it usually was. There were no disturbances of any human kind to be found for miles, apart from a native boy, crouched quietly in the branches of a tree, letting the wind blow over him, and the animals carrying on noisily below him. Ratonhnhaké:ton could have stayed like that for hours, if he wanted, but he was not so inclined. He took a deep breath and very slowly opened his eyes, squinting through the leaves at the dappled sunlight that greeted him. He lowered his head, then and surveyed the ground beneath him, frowning as he did so, and leaning heavily to his left, wrapping his arm further around the tree branch he clung to.

Then, with all the poise and grace of an eagle, he took off through the trees, his feet stamping against the wood, and his bow and arrow slapping noisily against his skin. The belts that crossed over his bare chest shifted a bit, but the skin beneath them was calloused enough that he did not notice. He grabbed branches, pushing them out of the way and using them to haul himself forwards, until he came to a clearing and the branches ceased to allow easy passage. He came to a stop, standing with his feet one in front of another atop a branch large enough to support his weight. He looked on, his eyes traversing the grass ahead of him, before he crouched down, grabbing the width of the branch between his hands and swinging himself down into a hanging position. He hung there a brief while, before dropping to the ground, in a crouch. The shock done to his feet was quickly forgotten as Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up briskly and began to make his way through the clearing, tapping anxiously on the beads around his neck.

His eyes remained downwards, staring down at the grass, which was browned and caked with a hard dull drown substance that Ratonhnhaké:ton could easily identify as blood. He slowly raised his head to the large oak tree, which stood proudly towards the edge of the clearing, despite the macabre decorations which hung from its bows. Three dead bodies hung lifelessly from a singly branch, twisting in the wind, with their arms bound behind them, and their heads covered with hessian sacks. Ratonhnhaké:ton approached the tree slowly, and stood for a moment, watching the bodies twist and turn as the wind blew past them, the rope continuing to rub raw patches into their slightly rotted skin. His attention slowly left the men hanging there and turned to the tree's mighty trunk, where someone had nailed a large piece of wood with big white letters painted on it, that read: "HAIL TO THE KING."

Ratonhnhaké:ton scowled and he walked over and grabbed the piece of wood, which was slightly rotted around the edges, and pulled it clear from its hook. He turned and threw it away, as if it might infect him with some disease just by touching it. He wipes his hands on the pelt that he kept tied around his waist, grimacing as he did so. He then slowly turned and looked up at the three men, once more, and his expression softened. He turned around, and as quickly and naturally as any other man could whistle, he scaled the tree's bark, hauling himself up onto the branch from which the three luckless souls still hung. He produced a stone knife from its hilt on his side, and grabbed one of the ropes before beginning to saw through it. The body fell to the ground with a sickening thump, and the other two very quickly followed suit. As soon as all three had been detached, Ratonhnhaké:ton leapt from the branch and landed beside them, before reaching down and straightening them out in a line, beneath the oak. He looked up and cast his eye about him to make sure he was not being watched before he knelt down and began to stab at the dirt around them with the knife from his belt. He did not have the time or the tools to bury them in the manner that they would have considered a proper burial. However, it was better than leaving them to hang and rot in the warm June sun.

He covered them as thoroughly as he could with the dirt around them, and patted it down tightly. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never had much to say, especially not in the way of ceremony, so he simply stood up and wipes his hands down the fur that he wore around his waist, and gave the dead a respectful nod and moment of his silence. He then turned in the direction he had come, and bolted swiftly across the clearing. He did not bother climbing into the trees, and instead jumped over rocks and branches that formed debris among the forest floor, allowing the steady downhill slope to carry him faster than he would normally be able to run.

The run took longer than he had been expecting and he felt his cheeks burn with the realization that he had wandered further from the valley than he had meant to. He continued to slip down the hill, barely keeping his feet underneath him, when the large wooden walls of his village came into view. He slowed himself to a jog, allowing the breeze to cool his heated face as he heaved in breath. He made his way to the dirt path that lead into the land, and slipped behind the opening, running his hands idly along the wall. A few people glanced up at him as he returned into the village, but he was largely unnoticed, which suited him just fine. He made his way to the center of his village, nodding a greeting to a few elder men, and then pushed aside a pelt, which hung in the doorway of a longhouse. He ducked under it, and stepped inside, casting his eyes around nervously as he did. He saw no one else inside, and just as a sigh of relief began to part from his lips, he felt a hand on his shoulder and a strict tone from behind him.

"Where have you been, Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton winced and slowly turned to face the Mohawk woman behind him. "Hello, mother."

"I told you, do not leave the valley." She folded her arms.

"I did not go far." He blushed, embarrassedly.

"Let me see your hands." She held out her own hand, palm upwards, and Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at it for a few minutes.

"Why?"

"Let me see them." She motioned, curling her fingers. With great hesitation, he raised his right hand and put it in hers. Instantly she grabbed his wrist and pulled it closer, inspecting it. "That is a lot of dirt under your fingernails for a simple walk you told me you were taking."

"I fell."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, what did you do?" She released his hand and it fell down to his waist again, dejectedly.

"Mother…I… I could not leave those men out there. They did not do anything wrong, and they deserved a better burial and more respect than what they were given."

Kaniehtí:io's features softened, if only a little bit, and she put a hand on her son's shoulders. "That is a noble cause, my son." She said moving his braid slightly with her fingertips. "However, it is not worth losing your life over."

Ratonhnhaké:ton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No one saw me, and even if they had, it would not matter." His features set into a determined glare. "I am ten times quicker than Washington's best solider."

"And ten times as arrogant."

"Mother…" He frowned up at her as she turned around and walked deeper into the long house. "You worry over me too much. I am nearly the age of a man!"

"You are a child, Ratonhnhaké:ton. You are thirteen."

Ratonhnhaké:ton scowled and followed her as she continued to walk forwards. "I can protect myself now."

"Just because you can wield a weapon does not mean you should go out looking for a fight. I do not want you leaving this valley." She turned to him, her features just as determined. "Do you understand me, my son?"

"I am tired of staying here! I am tired of seeing my brothers go out and die and burn, and knowing that there are countless men dying needless deaths. I want to fight!"

"You will fight. But not now. Not today. You are not ready."

"Then let me become ready!" He cried, exasperatedly. He sighed and straightened, taking a pleading stance towards his mother. "Oiá:ner said… she said you and some others discovered something. Something out there that makes you stronger. She said… she said that if I were to take it, then…"

"No!"

Ratonhnhaké:ton flinched backwards from his mother's sudden outburst, and looked up at her once more. He was shocked to see such alarming amounts of anger in her face. "Mother…"

"I do not want to hear anymore of this nonsense. You do not need some foreign poison in your body to make you stronger. You will become strong by your own two hands. You will fight with your own strength, do you hear me, Ratonhnhaké:ton?"

"Mother, please-"

"Do you hear me?" She snapped.

He sighed and lowered his arms, in defeat. "Yes."

"Good. Now forget all this talk of power, and strength. And forget whatever fool ideas that old woman is putting in your head." She pointed a finger, tapping him lightly on his forehead. Ratonhnhaké:ton batted at her hand lightly, his face still carrying sullen disappointment. She smiled at him, the anger in her eyes gone. "I have something for you."

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked up suspiciously, his eyes narrowing. "You do?"

"Yes." She turned around and continued her trek into the long house. She reached the corner on the farthest side, where two beds were made. One was his, the other hers. And laying on top of his mother's pelts, was another folded pelt, though it was smaller. Ratonhnhaké:ton tilted his head at it, and was after a moment able to tell it was fur that came from a wolf, though it did not look like a usual pelt. It had been sewn up in quite a few places, and he wasn't quite sure what it was supposed to be. His mother leaned down and picked it up, holding it up for him to see it fully, but Ratonhnhaké:ton was still completely baffled as to what it was. He reached out an took a corner between his fore finger and thumb.

"What is it?"

Kaniehtí:io chuckled briefly and then turned the pelt around, and Ratonhnhaké:ton's frown only became more pronounced as his confusion deepened. It was not an average wolf pelt, as it seemed to be the head of the wolf. The snout and ears were clearly visible, and he could tell where the nose and eyes had once belonged. She then flipped it around, turning it so the back was facing her son, and lifted it up and over his head. She draped it over Ratonhnhaké:ton's head and neck, and he could feel it clear down his shoulder blades. The wolf's snout slipped down over his eyes and he reached up and pushed it away, looking up at his mother curiously.

"A hood?"

"Hm." She frowned, tapping a finger to her chin. "It is a little big on you, but I'm sure you'll grow into it."

Ratonhnhaké:ton reached back and yanked it a little further down his neck, before shuffling a little in place, trying to get it to fall naturally into a place where it would not hang in his eyes. He stretched a few times, seeing if it would stay in place, but a quick readjustment of his belts made that possible. He beamed up at his mother, once he was satisfied. "I love it. Thank you, mother."

She smiled and reached up, running a finger through the fur. "Well it is something to do… while I wait to see what develops. Perhaps I will find more furs to decorate you with. A wolf for your head. A bear for your shoulders…" She poked him, as she spoke.

"Mother…" He grumbled, pushing her hand away and turning bright red with embarrassment.

"Alright, alright." She conceded, leaning down and wrapping him up tightly in her arms. She held him there a moment, until he returned it and then pushed back. "Go on now. And stay out of trouble."

Ratonhnhaké:ton pushed backwards, and turned around, slowly exiting the tent from the opposite doorway. He ran a hand along the fur of his new hood, and pushed the tips from his eyes again. He slowly examined the dirt beneath his fingernails, and heaved a sigh. King Washington's men pushed further and further every day, and his mother's plan could not simply be to stand still and do nothing. He had a feeling she had something planned, and it had to be something big, and something very dangerous, of that he was sure. He knew she was hiding something from him. Though he had no idea, just how dangerous that something was, and how it would change everything, forever.

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**(Surprise! This is what I've been doing with my life. Uhh yeah. I'm going to keep writing What We Call Bonding, when inspiration strikes, but for now, this has grabbed my life by the shoulders and is shaking as hard as it can. Cause oh my gosh, am I the only one who is in love with the Tyranny time line and wants to know everything about how it works? I'm going to burst with excitement waiting for the next part.)**


	2. All the King's Men

**(For anyone who does not know Teiowi:sonte and Kahionhatènion are the names of the two warriors from Tyranny. Yeah, they have actual names, though it took me forever to find them. I was going to use Kanen'tó:kon, but we have no idea where he is or if he's even alive, which makes me very sad.)**

* * *

Ratonhnhaké:ton sat quietly beside the river, his legs folded beneath him, and his hands absentmindedly running a whetstone across the edge of his tomahawk. He had thought that he would have been content to lose himself in thought, listening to the sounds of the water, while sharpening and tending to his weaponry. However, his conversation with his mother lingered heavily in his mind as he thought on what she had said. He had almost never seen his mother be so defensive before, about almost anything, and yet when he had brought up the strength that Oiá:ner had mentioned, she had not only scolded him, but had forbidden him from even thinking of it again. Of course, that in itself was enough to deter him from thinking on it to hard, for as stubborn as he was, he could not refuse what his mother asked him to do.

He sighed and let the tomahawk lay limply across his lap, and reached up to tug on one of the ends of wolf pelt. He kept it up around his head, even though it was making his head so hot, he could feel his hair growing slick with sweat in the summer heat. Still, it felt natural, up over his head, like a part of him had been missing, until his mother had given it to him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned back against his palm, placing it behind him and staring up towards the sky. Despite how calm and peaceful things seemed to be within the confines of their village, his mind remained outside, where war and atrocities happened every day. His mind never stayed very far from the battles that went on, just a little ways away from them. He had to wonder sometimes, if he was the only one who was really worried about it.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton!"

At the mention of his name, he perked and turned around. A small grin graced his lips as the two brothers came up behind him, and he turned around. "Hello." He nodded.

Teiowi:sonte, the larger of the brothers, came up beside him. He placed a hand atop the wolf hood. "I had wondered if it was you under there."

Ratonhnhaké:ton pushed the hood back up away from his eyes, as it has slipped with Teiowi:sonte's hand, and slowly made his way to his feet. "It was a gift, from my mother."

"It suits you." Kahionhatènion, the younger and smaller boy, folded his arms as he peered up at the hood. "It is a bit unsettling though. I feel as though it is looking at me."

"It is." Ratonhnhaké:ton grinned, devilishly. "It grants me an extra set of eyes, and the nose of the wolf!" For added dramatics, he took a step towards Kahionhatènion, raising his hands. His friend took a step back, looking a bit startled. Teiowi:sonte laughed, holding a hand in front of his face, as if to hide it, while his brother regained himself, looking slightly put off.

"Very funny, Ratonhnhaké:ton." He cast his eyes off to the side.

"Do not be like that, brother." Teiowi:sonte said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "He was only having fun." He then looked back up at Ratonhnhaké:ton, and smiled. "We are going to go hunting. You should come with us."

Ratonhnhaké:ton frowned and glanced down at his feet. "I should not. My mother is angry with me for leaving the valley earlier."

"We will not leave the valley. We are only going to see if we can catch a few rabbits." Teiowi:sonte continued, raising a hand. "Food and game are scarce these days, and we would like to contribute as we can."

"If he does not want to come, he does not have to." Kahionhatènion folded his arms. "But we would be grateful for your help."

There was a certain appeal to doing something constructive for a change, and not sitting and sharpening his weapons, training and waiting. He jostled his tomahawk in his hands, tapping it against his thigh, before hooking it back onto his belt. "Alright, I will come with you." Perhaps his mother's wrath would be assuaged if he were to prove he could stay in the valley, and contribute. Then she might not worry about him so much.

The two brothers grinned at his response, and then turned around to start heading towards the woods outside the village. The three of them walked together, through the opening in the walls that surrounded them, and began their trek up the dirt path. Ratonhnhaké:ton shifted a bit, wiping his forehead and looking up through the trees. It was quiet still, and he was grateful for it.

"It is a good thing," Kahionhatènion began, quietly. "That the influence and fighting of the white men has stayed far from here."

Ratonhnhaké:ton looked over at his friend. "Yes, but for how long?"

"You are worried, Ratonhnhaké:ton?" Teiowi:sonte looked back over his shoulder.

"You are not?"

The larger boy smirked and turned his head. "They are not concerned with us. This King George," He spoke the title mockingly. "is far to preoccupied with his own war, against the British."

"War…" Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke sullenly, looking down. "What war? The British have lost. They lost the moment King George found the scepter and began calling this land 'his'." He took up a quicker pace, to get closer to the two brothers. "I have heard that he is able to kill thousands at a time. Entire armies have fallen at his feet. There is no war, the British retreat in throngs, and he continues to subjugate the people. His men push further and further into the frontier, and it cannot be long before he comes for us."

"It is true." Kahionhatènion looked over at his brother. "They call him 'the Mad King.' Any who stand in his way are killed, or worse."

"Then, you wish to fight him? What hope do we have of standing against that kind of power?"

"The answer is not to hide forever." Ratonhnhaké:ton narrowed his eyes. "We are making prisoners of ourselves." He curled his fists angrily. "This… Mad King George is just a man. And every man can be killed."

"What would you do with it?"

He looked up, sharply, and discovered both his friends had stopped walking and were turned, staring at him. "With it?" He repeated.

Kahionhatènion looked over at his brother and then turned back to Ratonhnhaké:ton. "The scepter. If you were to get it from him. What would you do with it?"

The question caught him off-balance. He looked down at the ground, and a frown creased his features as he thought. "The sort of power that scepter is has is dangerous and alluring. It corrupts easily, I'm sure. If I ever held it in my hands… I hope I would be strong enough to destroy it."

"It certainly does make me wonder… Assuming it can be destroyed at all."

"Everything can be destroyed." Ratonhnhaké:ton affirmed, beginning to walk forwards again. "There is nothing on this earth that is permanent."

The three of them walked in silence after that, having nearly forgotten the reason they had come out this way in the first place. They slowly began to set snares by warrens, and bushes full with leaves that had been clearly chewed by hares. Ratonhnhaké:ton littered them with bait and other tempting devices, before the three friends retreated to a slumped over tree, to sit in waiting.

They were quiet together for the longest time, though Kahionhatènion hummed a few verses of a chant while they sat. Eventually Teiowi:sonte was the one to break the silence, by leaning back against the branches. "If you did destroy it, what do you think would happen?"

"Meaning what?"

"To his… kingdom I suppose. Would they just find a new king?"

"The people are loyal only out of fear." Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned into his hand. "Should he die, and the scepter be destroyed, I think they would revolt."

"Let us talk of something else." Kahionhatènion narrowed his eyes, sitting up again. "All this talk of mad kings and death is too depressing."

"What should we talk about then?" Ratonhnhaké:ton did not take his hand away from his face.

The smaller of the two brothers took a few steps away from the tree and stretched his arms. "We should spar together." He said. "We have been talking about fighting, so let us practice instead."

"No, you'll scare away the game."

Teiowi:sonte laughed and leapt off the tree. "Our snares are far enough away that we will not disturb them. Come, do not be a poor sport, Ratonhnhaké:ton."

He frowned and sat up, as the two brothers stared at him expectantly. His lip twitched as he bit down on the corner of his lip. "Very well…" He consented with a sigh. He slid off the tree, and pulled the wolf hood from his head. His hair was slick with sweat, and the back of his neck was soaked clear down to his back, and it felt good to have the wind blow against it. He then pulled his weapons from his waist and swung his arms to loosen his shoulders. He turned back to the brothers and crouched. "Who is first?"

Teiowi:sonte took a step forwards. "Very well, I will challenge you." He raised his eyebrows in a challenging fashion and Ratonhnhaké:ton had to laugh at it.

His friend, who was nearly twice his size charged, much like an angry Elk, and Ratonhnhaké:ton leapt back, lithely as a bird. He took a few steps back, and jumped, bracing his feet up against the tree he had been leaning on and pounced. His knees met with Teiowi:sonte's shoulders and knocked him back clean onto his back, with Ratonhnhaké:ton sitting silently on top of him.

"I win."

"Yes, well done." Teiowi:sonte grunted, and reached up to shove him. "Get off of me now."

Ratonhnhaké:ton stood up, and smiled. "I apologize, did I hurt you?"

"Just my pride. Let us do it once more." His friend got to his feet, trying to ignore his brother's snickering. Ratonhnhaké:ton smiled and nodded, dipping his head.

"As you wish."

The two of them clashed a while, exchanging blows. Kahionhatènion tagged in after a while, and he and Ratonhnhaké:ton brawled. The switched in an out, mock battling against one another, forgetting for a time, about the Mad King, the death and horror that lay outside their small world. However, the time they spent in ignorance of the atrocities they had tried to escape was short-lived. A short and pained cry brought all fighting to a painful halt. Ratonhnhaké:ton had been watching as the two brothers had fought, but he was quick to jump to his feet at the sound of the scream.

"Who…?" Kahionhatènion stood up just as quickly.

Ratonhnhaké:ton wasted no time asking questions. He began to strap his weapons back to his waist and back and pulled the wolf hood back over his head. He looked back at his friends and jerked his head towards the sound. "It came from there. A little ways past the valley."

"We said would not leave."

"Someone could be hurt." He argued, and without waiting for a reply, he took off, jumping up to run along the tree stump.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton wait!"

He did not wait, and simply kept running towards the sound of the scream, as more continued to echo, giving way to wails and sobbing. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and noticed his friends, despite their protests were giving chase. He bolted through the woods, leaping over the debris that littered the forest floor, until his run took him clear from the valley. There was a larger dirt road lined with fences coming into view a little ways from the trees, and Ratonhnhaké:ton slid to a halt besides a particularly large spruce. He pressed up against it and looked back, motioning to his friends to do the same. They found their own trees to lean against, and as they did they peered forwards down the road below.

There were a few soldiers, dressed in blue coats there, about four of them, and one larger man dressed in green, with a large hat and a cloth over most of his face. He was standing in the center, while the other men circled around him, jeering and laughing, while he held a struggling native woman by her hair. She cried and screamed, while blood ran down her arm, and from a wound near her forehead. She struggled to pull away, but the man held tight, an evil glint in his eye and a long shining sword in his hand.

Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes widened as the woman, who could have been a little older than his mother, wailed and begged in Mohawk for release. This only prompted more laughing and jeering from the other soldiers. He reached around his waist, grabbing his tomahawk and removing it from its place on his belt.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton, what are you doing?" Kahionhatènion hissed, leaning towards him. "You will be killed!"

"No. I won't." He spoke in a harsh, low tone. Then, with no further explanation or plan of any sort, he rushed forwards, crouching in the bushes and moving silently towards the men. He crept to the very edge of the road and reached down with his other hand and slowly unhooked the stone knife he had used only earlier to cut down the three hanging men. He gripped both weapons tightly, and took a deep breath.

He then lunged from his hiding spot and darted forwards into the road. The soldiers only had a few seconds to look shocked before he was on them. He darted between two of them, going straight for the man holding the woman by her hair. His eyes widened in shock as Ratonhnhaké:ton was on him in an instant. With the ferocity of a feral wolf, Ratonhnhaké:ton let out a wild snarl and buried his tomahawk deep into the man's elbow. His eyes widened in pain and he released the woman, staggering backwards. But Ratonhnhaké:ton was not satisfied. He lunged again, and before the man could even cry out in pain, he plunged the dagger deep into his neck. The man toppled backwards and Ratonhnhaké:ton knelt with him, pulling his weapons from his victims flesh.

He stood up and looked backwards, at the soldiers who were left standing stunned and stuttering. It only took them an instant to get their bearings back, however, and they lunged for him in an instant. Ratonhnhaké:ton recoiled, but then blinked in shock as two of them were suddenly jerked back, as if by their hair and two blades opened their throats. The two infantrymen toppled, revealing the two brothers, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had never been more relieved to see them in his life. The two remaining soldiers backed away, horror on their faces.

One of them, the larger of the two quickly recovered, gripping his musket with an angry growl. "You filthy savages!" He lunged for the brothers, and they both took a step back, to avoid the sharp bayonet that was jabbed in their direction. The other solider, was slightly less brave.

He turned around and bolted down the dirt road, as quickly as his legs would carry him. For a moment Ratonhnhaké:ton watched him run, feeling a small amount of pity for the fear he had seen in his eyes.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton! Don't let him get away! He'll bring more soldiers!" Teiowi:sonte's voice jerked him back to reality, and he staggered a bit.

He looked over and nodded his understanding before darting forwards after the solider, ducking down and sprinting. The man was fast, but he was faster. As he neared his target, he gripped his tomahawk as hard as he could, and pushed himself from the ground, leaping forwards. His knee knocked into the small of the man's back, and he grabbed the man's shoulder with his right hand, and raised his tomahawk with the other, and buried it deep into the base of the man's skull. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Blood seeped onto the dirt, standing his stone tomahawk and the fabric that covered his hands. Still, he stood up, trying to stay as unperturbed as possible. He shook for only a moment before turning around and heading back towards his friends, who had successfully warded off the other soldiers attack, and he now lay dead, in a pool of his own blood. He slowly put his tomahawk back in its holster, and took a deep breath before looking at the death that lay at his feet. He swallowed heavily, and then looked over at the woman, who was slowly pulling herself to her feet.

"Are you alright?" He asked, holding a hand out for her to take.

"Yes… Thank you." She whispered, nodding. "They attacked me, I hadn't done anything, I didn't know what they wanted…" She sobbed a bit through her explanation and Ratonhnhaké:ton looked over at the two brothers who continued to look on, with sympathetic faces.

"Our village is not far from here." Ratonhnhaké:ton said, looking back to her. "Come with us, and we will see to your wounds."

"That is a good idea." Kahionhatènion said, sliding his own weapons back to their rightful places. "Come, this way." He walked over and pulled the woman's arm over his shoulder, while she clutched her injured arm to her chest. She began to limp, as he lead her back up the hill away from the road. Teiowi:sonte walked over to Ratonhnhaké:ton and stood beside him a moment in silence, watching his brother help the woman up the slope.

"I am not trying to disparage the fact that you saved that woman's life." He sighed looking down. "I just hope this does not bring unwanted attention to us."

"It will not." Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke mostly to reassure himself, rather than his friend. "I doubt Washington is losing much sleep over five soldiers."

"I hope you are right, Ratonhnhaké:ton."

"So do I, my friend." He frowned and began to walk towards the hill. "So do I."


End file.
